A Stupid Person's Talent
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: In which John tries to teach Sherlock how to ice skate. Rated T for John's mild language. Kind of fluffy!


**A Stupid Person's Talent**

"John..."

"Get off your arse, Sherlock."

"No."

"Your trousers are going to get wet."

"I don't care."

"And cold, mind you."

"I don't care."

"Sherlock."

"I can't stand!"

Sherlock glared hotly up at John, his arms crossed across his chest.

"You look like a child," John said, unable to contain his amusement. Sherlock was staring up at him with rosy cheeks, annoyed eyes, and a glare on his face. He was more pale than usual, and there was snow in his hair, and John had to smile at the picture before him.

"I feel like a child..." Sherlock muttered.

"Look, get up. You're not going to fall again." John offered a hand.

"I _am_ going to fall again. I'm all off balance and I can't stay standing when I'm off balance!"

"Just get up here!"

Sherlock sighed heavily before gripping John's hand, allowing himself to be helped back to his feet. He immediately swayed; John gripped his arms quickly to prevent him from falling.

"How is it that you can do this? That you can do this and I can't!" Sherlock said, his fingers knitting into John's jacket.

"Maybe it's a stupid person's talent. I don't know." John let go of Sherlock's arms, although Sherlock tightened his grip on his jacket. "You've been on inline skates?"

"Yes, of course, but the ground isn't typically so _icy_ when I'm on inlines," Sherlock snapped.

"Actually, when have you ever been on inlines? I can't picture you skating as a teen."

"Don't be ridiculous; it was for a case, as is this."

"Well, it's like skating. Like walking. Shuffle your feet forward."

John was aware that he was doing a less than rudimentary job at trying to explain ice skating to Sherlock, but he didn't know how to tell the detective to skate. Ice skating was natural to John; he was very good at it. Even though the girlfriends that he'd taken ice skating had, inevitably, ended up leaving him, he had enough practice to be good on ice skates.

Sherlock, however, was not good on ice skates.

The consulting detective tripped and gasped quietly, clutching tightly onto John's coat.

John nearly fell over from Sherlock's weight. "Damn it, Sherlock, behave! Give me your hands."

"John, this isn't going to work."

"Give me your hands," John repeated.

Sherlock hesitated before placing his hands in John's outstretched ones.

"Okay. Come on." John skated backwards a few paces, guiding Sherlock forwards. "See? You're fine."

John had barely said those words when Sherlock lost his balance. He crashed to the ground, but not before he had gripped John's arms and dragged him down with him.

"Ow- What part," John grumbled, sitting up, "What part of _behave_ do you not understand?"

"What part of _this isn't going to work_ do _you_ not understand?" Sherlock retorted, struggling to get to his feet. "I'm going home."

"You can't go undercover unless you can ice skate," John reminded him.

Sherlock's nostrils flared in irritation. "I'll send you!"

"Yes, but you know I never understand anything of importance."

Sherlock sighed. "Fine." He held out his hands again.

John took them. "You're getting the hang of it. Trust me."

"I do trust you," Sherlock said. "I simply distrust the lack of balance and the force of gravity that sits upon us."

"Of course you do," John joked, laughing quietly. His breath formed a cloud of mist in the cold air. He hoped that Sherlock would get the hang of this sooner rather than later; it was cold out on the lake and John desperately wanted a hot chocolate.

The next time that they fell, it was John's fault.

Something had skidded into the line of his skates, and since he was skating backwards, he didn't see it. He fell backwards. Sherlock, by default, lost his balance from the sudden fall of his support and crashed to the ice as well.

"... Ow..." John muttered.

"You fell," Sherlock muttered. He rolled over so he was laying flat on his back, next to John, blinking snowflakes from his eyelashes. "I thought you said you were good at this ice skating lark."

"Actually," John muttered, brushing frost from his pants, "_you_ said that I was good..."

"Did I?"

John smiled.

"The stars are... nice," Sherlock said suddenly.

John looked at Sherlock, followed his gaze, and looked back at Sherlock. "Really?"

"You think so, too; don't act like you don't."

John laughed slightly. He hesitated before laying back on the ice next to Sherlock, shifting uncomfortably as the cold assailed his ears and neck.

He hadn't done this, not since he was a kid and getting on with Harry, this laying out under the stars bit. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it... It just seemed to be one of those things that he did less once he had gotten older. He had lost the childlike wonder or, at least, the time to exercise his childlike wonder.

He exhaled heavily, shifting his arm beneath his head.

Sherlock was quiet for a long while. So was John.

"It's cold, John," Sherlock said irritably, breaking the silence.

"I'm not making you lay there," John retorted, although he said it without conviction. He was content to lay here, stare at the stars... even if it was cold and snowing.

"I want a hot chocolate."

"That does sound good."

"Shall we?"

"I think so." John sat up again before standing, stretching his arms to the sky. If, for one moment, he let his childhood wonder overtake him, he could imagine that he could touch the stars... But, back to business. "Do you think you've got the hang of this, then?"

"Good enough for the case. Maybe if I fail more than average, they'll have less reason to suspect that I'm actually an undercover consulting detective."

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you're going to be covered in bruises. Let's go home."

"Homemade hot chocolate?"

"I thought so."

"Mm."

"Careful."

"I'm fine."

"Lying isn't going to get you a hot chocolate."

"... I'm oka- Ow."

"... Yeah. Right. Come on."

John extended his hand to help Sherlock to his feet again.

* * *

**Just because I think Sherlock would be rubbish at ice skating, at first. But, who knows? I've never been ice skating myself. I like the idea of John being able to perfect something that Sherlock can't, though.**

**Favourites and follows and reviews are always appreciated. As usual, I do not own _Sherlock_. Thank you!**


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